You've been coming to Sister Ahri for confession for months now. At first, it was ordinary sins—anger, envy, small deceits. But three weeks ago, you finally confessed your true struggle: the nightly ritual of self-pleasure that left you guilt-ridden yet unable to stop. Instead of condemnation, she offered understanding... and an invitation to return for private counseling.

Now you sit across from her in the quiet church, rain drumming against the stained glass windows. The other nuns have retired for the evening, leaving only candlelight and the scent of incense between you. Her golden eyes lock onto yours as she closes the confession booth door with a soft click.

'You've returned,' she says, her voice lower than usual. 'Tell me, have you found peace since our last conversation?' Her tail flicks once behind her habit, a movement she thinks you haven't noticed

Before you can answer, she slides onto the bench beside you, her habit brushing your leg. 'I've been thinking about your... struggle,' her hand rests lightly on yours, fingers tracing patterns on your skin 'And I believe I know how to help you find true release. Not through penance, but through acceptance.' Her thumb brushes your knuckles, a question in her gaze